


I Chose to Be Here

by muted_faerie



Category: Frontier (TV 2016)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 22:25:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13257864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muted_faerie/pseuds/muted_faerie
Summary: Here there be spoilers...Not necessarily in order, but a collection of stories about Declan and Michael, from their perspectives and others.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I devoured this show in like three days, and fell in love with this pairing right off the bat! 
> 
> I haven't written anything in years, but this pairing inspired me to start writing again, and since this fandom is spread so thin so far, I felt the need to add to it. Any and all mistakes are my own.
> 
> All the chapters can be read as part of the same story or as stand alones. They fit together either way.
> 
> It's finished for now, but I may add more to it as inspiration strikes. (And if I go into withdrawals waiting for Season 3!)

“I chose to be here.”

Declan glanced over his shoulder at Michael, only to find the young man eyeing him back intently. “And if you think I’m letting you do this alone, you’re crazier than everyone says,” Michael finished, holding eye contact while moving closer and resting a hand on Declan’s arm.

Declan scowled and grunted softly in response, which Michael took as a sign that it was okay to move closer. He slid his hand down Declan’s arm to take hold of his hand, shifting his head to maintain eye contact while not completely blocking the view of Benton between the trees.

“We’re in this together, right? After all, can’t let my lover run off half-cocked and get himself killed when I just got him back, now can I?” Michael finished his statement with a smirk that made Declan shake his head, and then lean over to claim Michael’s lips in a hungry kiss.

“Nah, guess not,” Declan muttered, squeezing Michael’s hand tightly. He shifted his weight off the tree he was leaning against heavily, and leaned on Michael instead, letting the Irishman know how much he appreciated the fact that Michael was here at his side. They both looked up sharply when they heard Declan’s name on Grant’s lips. Declan shifted his weight and stood up, the moment broken.

“That smarmy bastard,” Michael hissed angrily, before pulling out his weapons and looking to Declan for his cues, who was switching seamlessly from lover to leader in preparation for a fight. On Declan’s signal, the pair burst from the trees and threw themselves into battle once more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is just a short thing from Clenna's POV. I am not a huge fan of her character, but this plot bunny popped into my head and couldn't be ignored.
> 
> Just one more attempt at making them work in canon, I guess.

I looked closely at Michael across the fire, bundled in furs and shivering. I’d been watching him closely since Miss Emberly left me in the hide away with him and the woman. He’s changed, so much, from how he was in London, but then he’ll do something and I can see the old Michael shine through. I don’t recognize him anymore, but I had held out some hope that I might be able to convince him to come home with me. At least, I did until I saw him in the magazine. The way he rushed to defend that savage, and seeing him kill the captain… But even then, I still had some hope that he was still my Michael.

And then I saw him with that man, Harp. I might have held his heart back home, but here, in this wild-cold-awful place... He isn’t mine anymore. I watched the way he sat close to that man, made sure he was covered by the furs stretched across them both, despite the way he tossed in fever dreams, and I waited for that woman to leave to get more firewood before I spoke up.

“You love him,” I said, just loud enough to reach the other side of the fire, as I watched Michael run his fingers through that man’s tangled hair.

He looked up for a moment, and I could see guilt on his face, but his hand didn’t stop its journey. Smoothing the hair from Harp's forehead, fingers catching on tangles that got lower the more time passed, to finally reach the end, adjust the hair out of his face, and then begin again. He opened his mouth, sighed heavily, and closed it again before nodding.

“Yes, I do.” He made eye contact with me across the fire, briefly, before returning his gaze to the man at his side, at some invisible sign or movement that had Michael furrowing his brow and moving closer to the giant man, halfway pulling him into his lap. When whatever danger Michael had sensed had passed, he went back to smoothing his hair and looked back up at me.

“How long?” I asked, because my fragile heart needs more barbs in it.

Michael snorted softly, fondly. “Since he grabbed my face, smeared blood all over it and scared me half to death. He came back after they’d tied me up, just stood there staring at me, and I was gone. This huge, savage looking, fearsome man, and yet he was so gentle when he cute me loose and told me I was a shite liar.” He shook his head again, a tiny smile on his face, and I could tell—

“You look… happy, Michael,” I told him softly. “Does he know?”

“I would imagine so, though he might not know how much. He’s a bit thick sometimes, mostly on purpose,” Michael laughed, and then grew quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry, Clenna. I know this isn’t what you expected to find when you got told I was here. I wasn’t expecting it myself, honestly.”

“Michael Smyth, don’t you dare apologize to me for being happy,” I told him sternly, glaring at him across the fire for a moment before getting up and moving to sit closer to him. Even though my heart hurt at the thought that I’d lost him, I smiled as I leaned against his arm and punched him in the side playfully. He wrapped his free arm around me and I felt him drop a kiss on the top of my head that felt more meant for a sister than a lover. If I can’t have his heart, I suppose I’ll have to settle for that, won't I?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Grace, but I am fully of the opinion that Declan and Michael belong together, so I tweaked the scene with Declan and Grace, so that that dialogue took place between him and Michael instead.

Michael’s eyes snapped open when he heard the sounds of someone moving through the grass and snow above his head. Immediately, his eyes flicked to his lover, who was… Supposed to be laid out next to him under a mountain of furs, but was conspicuously absent. Sitting up, he looked around camp and noticed that Declan’s knives and belt were missing.

“Goddammit Declan, you thrice-cursed bloody fool.” Michael heaved himself off the ground, grabbing a few furs before setting off to track the older man down before he did something to get himself killed, or the blood loss and infection killed him first.

Declan knew how to move through his surroundings without leaving a trace, but he was hurt and delirious, and Michael had been learning from Sokanon. The Irishman soon reached a snowy clearing about midway between their camp and Fort James. He leaned against a tree briefly and crossed his arms, taking in the sight of the man he loved in the flickering light of the fire before shifting and moving closer.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured softly once he got close enough to be heard.

An eyebrow raised as he attempted to gauge whether the blade in the fire was hot enough and make eye contact with Michael with his one good eye at the same time, Declan remained silent. The larger man knew that if he waited, Michael would (slowly) stumble through an explanation. Despite his time on the frontier with them, Michael never had managed to shake his habit of nervous talking when something bothered him.

Sure enough, after a few silent moments, Michael moved closer, walking behind Declan to settle on the far side of the log. With anyone else, Declan would have bristled in the state he was in, but his young lover trailed a gentle hand over his shoulders as he moved, allowing Declan to track his movements until Michael settled within his line of sight again, purposely sitting on his right side so Declan could see him without turning his head. Michael batted Declan’s hands away from what he was doing and lifted the bloody shirt over the wound on his abdomen. Once the words started, Michael was hard pressed to stop them, and spoke with increasing speed as he worked to try to clean the wound with snow. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t find you fast enough. I’m sorry I didn’t fight harder when they came for us at the ale house. That I just left you there to face Benton alone. I’m sorry it took me and Sokanon so long to get you out of there, to take care of you. I’m sorry that I led them right to you, that I didn’t pay attention to if they were following or not. I’m sorry about…” Michael paused, swallowed, and continued in a shaking voice. “I’m sorry about Clenna. All of it, but most of all that I put her-“

Declan took pity on his boy, leaning over to cut him off with a finger to his lips as he pressed their foreheads together. “Michael, it’s fine. You came back to me in the end, saved me. Proved me right.”

Michael furrowed his brow but remained where he was, knowing Declan could feel his confused expression.

“I knew I was right to trust you, to believe you when you told me I could.” Declan smirked, then sobered quickly. “And I’m glad you left when I told you to. I could handle what Benton did to me, the things he said. But I couldn’t stand it if he hurt you.”

Michael frowned, but didn’t argue. Instead, he placed a kiss on his lover’s brow and slowly pulled back, leaning over to pick up the knife out of the fire. In silence, Declan raised his shirt and Michael quickly pressed the heated blade to the wound on his abdomen, cauterizing it. Through the quick process, Declan snuck his hand across the log and gripped Michael’s free hand tightly. Once it was finished, Michael dropped the knife in the snow and shifted to wrap one of the furs he had brought with him around Declan’s shoulders. Michael sat quietly with the older man, staring into the fire and leaning against him to share body heat until he felt Declan’s head come to rest on his shoulder.

“Declan?” Michael called his name gently when he felt his lover begin to shake as he curled his larger frame around Michael. “Declan, what’s-”

“They’re gone. My family’s dead, Michael.” Declan’s shaking intensified as tears rolled down his face. “Benton tortured them; he- Michael, the things he said…”

Michael wrapped his arms more tightly around Declan’s shoulders, letting the older man curl tighter into himself and sob. Michael held his love throughout, stroking his hair and murmuring soft, comforting nonsense until the tears began to slow. When Declan finally loosened up, somehow managing to sit up straighter without removing his head from Michael’s shoulder, the Irishman turned his head to rest his cheek on top of his head.

“I suppose it’d be stupid to ask you to come back to camp with me, eh?” Declan raised his head and opened his mouth, but Michael cut him off. “So then I’ll just have to come with you, then won’t I?”

“Michael, this is my fight. I can’t take you in with me and-”

“Put me in danger, yes I know. But then how can you expect me to allow you to do the same to yourself? Hm?” Michael raised his eyebrows at the other man, who gaped at him for a moment before shaking his head.

“Don’t know why I expected anything else,” Declan grunted softly, wrapping his arm around Michael’s waist beneath the furs. “We should get going, then, if you’re coming with me.” He made to stand, but Michael pulled him back down onto the log, reaching for the rest of the furs to cover them as one bundle.

“To the very end, luv. But right now, we are going to rest a few moments longer to allow that fresh burn on your ribs time to stop hurting you. Then…” Michael paused, pressing a kiss to his temple. He ducked his head and made sure that Declan was holding eye contact before continuing, “Then we’re going to go see Emberly before we take on the entirety of Fort James. We’ll need some help if we’re to do this properly, especially without Sokanon.”

Declan leaned in and captured Michael’s lips in a kiss before nodding. “Good plan, boy. Good plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I don't know if anyone else noticed it, and it took me embarrassingly long to realize, but Declan is actually blind in his left eye. That totally makes sense, considering that wicked scar that Jason Momoa has got, since they probably wouldn't have been able to save his eye from an injury that would leave such a scar back then. However, I didn't realize it until McTaggert said something about it in when we first meet him. I'd thought the contact that Momoa wears off and on during the first season was a fluke, but then I realized that McTaggert hasn't seen Declan since before the beginning of the first season. So Declan must have been blind in that eye the whole time for McTaggert to have known. Or at least, that's my headcanon about it. Otherwise, the blindness could have been caused by the trauma he suffered from nearly being hanged in S01E06, but...


End file.
